


Shared experience seen by one

by HelpingHanikan



Series: Reader one-shots [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Gen, Marvel - Freeform, Not Beta Read, Not good at emotions, Oneshot, Reader Insert, Red strand of fate, Soulmate AU, TW; might be ableism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:33:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28459071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelpingHanikan/pseuds/HelpingHanikan
Summary: Movies, books, TV and more have brainwashed the world into thinking your soulmate is one romantic comedy away. But life is never that easy, nor is that cheesy.
Relationships: Daredevil/reader, Matt Murdock/Reader
Series: Reader one-shots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2084520
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	Shared experience seen by one

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this in the back of my mind for awhile. Full disclosure; I'm not good at emotions and I try my best not to make the reader out to be an overly emotional caricature. Spoiler alert, I have failed at both.

_“A blowup bed is not that hard to set up, just stay with me instead of waiting for the right place.”_ Karen had said when you mentioned the impending move to the city. _“In fact, you need a job? A very underpaid job?”_

The red strand of fate came along during your move. It sometimes tangled while packing, it bended and dipped during the trip, and tightened when reaching Karen’s place. That was how Fate’s strand works; it bounces and moves as you and your soulmate does. It will sway and bounce with your gestures and hand. Although weightless it can be a physical thing to touch and grab, but it takes focus. With enough focus you and Fate can play a game of jump rope; swinging it around with your soulmate on the other side as the anchor. Jumping over the strand like a schoolgirl was Fate themselves. Having a great time watching their chosen couple use the bond to both find eachother and have fun.

Jump rope was played through most of your journey: toying with it on the bus and fiddling while filling out paperwork. It was twirling around your fingers as Karen gave advice for your first day at Nelson and Murdock. _“Just bring something food related and they’re gonna love you. Something hearty though, we get enough pastries.”_ She said then heading out, reminding you to show up around seven.

Just like your nose it’s easy to forget that the strand is there. Just another color that makes up the world all around. It’s only when you reach the building that you notice your strand flat as a table, leading you right into the building.

It’s nothing new for the strand to lead straight ahead. Younger people and children will commonly ignore whatever they were doing before and follow their strand right into the unknown. _“Maladaptive following”_ is the technical for these moments of distraction. Adults will even fall victim to it from time to time: Stopping a business lunch or jog to follow their red strand into the street or some building. Articles and urban legends float about the world stating that many have met their chosen this way. In reality it’s one of the leading causes of death by vehicle for minors.

Now it’s a question whether you were following your strand, or if it just happens to be going in the same direction you were originally headed. Fate was holding your strand so tight it was flat, bouncing as your hands stabilized the box but stayed tight as Fate pulled you forward.

Fate drags your strand into the highest, smallest gap of the elevator’s door. Lifting your head to watch it slide through was giving it too much hope but watching it with eyes was mature enough to acknowledge it without going crazy. Yet as the elevator reached it’s floor, and the strand led straight out, your heart couldn’t help but speed up.

In fiction the sight of your soulmate is portrayed so romantic. There was a few seconds of staring at the shared strand, then at eachother which leads into eye-contact and then a funny/cheesy/romantic line; _“I’ve waited so long,” “more beautiful than I could have ever imagined,”_ or even just _“hi,”_ followed by breathy laughing. They all ended in the two taking a few steps right into each other’s arms.

Your personal situation started off like this. Following the strand across the room and to the man who was your chosen. Following further until the strand was wrapped in a bow on his pinky, on the same hand which held a white cane.

Karen is talking somewhere in the background of your focus. She reaches out towards you in a gesture that is followed by the blonde man stepping up to you with a closed mouth smile. It’s only when he gets to his own name that your ears start to work again.

“-Everyone calls me Foggy, though. It’s good to have join up.”

With the world moving once more the sandwiches almost topple from your hands. Both from trying to get a handout for a proper shake and from realizing no words had come out when you entered.

“Yeah, it’s…hi. I brought lunch, or dinner, or…yeah, they’re just sandwiches.” Were the only comprehensible words that could come out. No matter how hard you tried keep looking at the man in front of you, your eyes kept glancing to the end of your strand.

As the box is taken by Mr. Foggy the second man second, the man at the end of your strand, steps up. Although his face is staring right at you it almost impossible to see his eyes through the glasses. What lines you do see through the glass are likely imaginary; your brain trying to come up with someway that you are special enough to see through his shields.

“Hi, Mathew Murdock,” He says, unfortunately professional.

You shake his hand as well, just as professional but with wondering eyes. Starting at the brown hair with tinges of red in the right light, to the glasses over his eyes which keep you from seeing their color. From his suit without a tie to his hand that held yours in a shake. Where two bows sit side by side, the closest they have ever been.

Fate came along with you at Nelson and Murdock. Instead of being a fellow employee trying their best they just hang around and grinned at you. Sitting on the edge of your desk, playing with the window until Karen had to slam it shut. Blaming it on the faulty building rather than the smirking being that was standing in the middle of the office. Using barely a finger to keep the red strand from touching the floor. Staring you in the eye as they rub your strand between it’s fingers, teasing you with the truth that may not be believed by your chosen.

The entire day is spent as someone else. You were a lightweight as their first party, drinking too much and trying to hide it. Karen was patient as she explained everything but there was still the pressure in the back of your throat. Word vomit threatening to come out at the sight of red, of Mr. Murdock, or of stupid fucking Fate. The latter of which still pulling on the string. Both to keep it from touching the ground and to encourage their chosen couple to do something.

Staring at the abyss between your spot in the corner and Mr. Murdock’s designated office was hypnotizing. Your strand was lightly swinging with Mr. Murdock’s movements. Watching through peripheral vision his fingers drag along paper, reading through touch as he moves the strand without meaning to.

Karen was patient as you struggled to pay attention to the instructions she was giving you. It was too late to say anything about the strand to Mr. Murdock, and this office was way too small for any kind of personal conversation.

“Are you okay?” Karen’s voice is softer than a whisper against your ear. Already leaning over your shoulder, you didn’t flinch at her suddenly speaking. Instead looking over to your new boss and leaning back into Karen. “Sorry. Mr. Murdock and I…And I’ll tell you later.” You whisper, refocusing on the earthly reason you were here.

By the end of your practice there was still no reaction on the side of Mr. Murdock. Although both rude and in bad form a goodbye couldn’t come out while leaving. Instead just a wave towards Mr. Foggy and Mr. Murdock and leaving the door open behind you, Karen following quickly behind. Her heels _clip-clapping_ through the hallway in time with your name called out once, twice…

“Son of a bitch, Karen, I messed up. I don’t know, and now I messed up.” It’s coming out faster than you meant to. With both frustration and almost

Word vomit was finally free to spew. Before the elevator even arrived you were telling Karen everything; about the strand, about the nerves and how you messed up so greatly by not saying anything. When the elevator finally arrived, Karen was guiding you forward. Knowing better than to try and talk anymore while still within Matt’s earshot.

* * *

When anyone asks Matt if he eavesdropped, he’d argue; _“Of course not, I don’t exactly have a choice with this.”_ Which was only a half truth, in reality he was a nosy bitch. But it was all for the greater good; clients and their family say the most important things behind closed doors, cops lie and only tell the truth when they think the world isn’t listening, and he just wanted to make sure Karen didn’t get him something he already had.

So, it’s only natural that he listened along as you left.

It took years to try and isolate the noises around him. It was still a struggle to separate them when he first covered his face and climbed to the rooftop. It still hard sometimes, especially when he’s only half focusing, and especially when Karen’s heels can’t be turned off like a radio.

Buried under the heels was your voice. Coming out quickly with a heartbeat to match. _“Our strands are connected, and I didn’t say anything and now I don’t know what to do and I can’t say anything now and…”_ Karen’s soft but sharp voice stops the storm of thoughts coming out. Keeping them at bay until the elevator joins the fray.

It takes longer than it should for Matt to connect the dots. Strands are connected, didn’t say anything…His hands have wondered off of the paperwork in the time it took. Running over the cracks and bits of worn wood from his desk. Dragging up the old crumbs and coffee cup papers that wedged into those gaps. Pulling the smells up and muddying the waters of his sense, hiding the conversation outside until it was impossible to find the women in the hallway.

Matt only had the strand for a short time before the accident. After that it was an overwhelming part of the world. A constant touch on his finger that distracted from something more important. Taking longer than normal people to get used to it, and only a short time after that to completely forget it’s there. It’s been a while since he’s even thought about it: only during selfish moments with a girlfriend. Trying to seek out the vibrations and slightest effect it would have on his chosen. After finding none he’d forget about the strand and move on.

Turning his wrist, he finds the strand once more. Closest he could compare the material to was silk, but it was too soft and slick for it to be that. Tugging on it brought tighter resistance than normal; his chosen’s weight keeping Matt from dragging you right back to him. The resistance getting weaker the more he toyed and the farther you got from him.

There was this urge that goes through everyone when they finally find their chosen. The urge to talk or know them. To hold them tight and find every and any reason that fate had chosen them for eachother. But this was another urge that Matt had to keep down, at least for now.

Yes, that’s what he’s best at, keeping things down. This would have to be different than his old relationships. No trauma bonding over kidnappings as the Devil or making the first move like the suave lawyer man he knew he was. This would be…natural, an organic relationship made by lying to eachother until one finally caves and tells all Just like a suave lawyer.


End file.
